


So I Told You (And You Understood)

by blanchtt



Series: 500X LEDA [18]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-13 21:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11193459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchtt/pseuds/blanchtt
Summary: These are the first words out of Alison Hendrix’s mouth.“I hate yoga.”





	So I Told You (And You Understood)

**Author's Note:**

> Rare-pair minific: Shay/Alison, helios.
> 
> Honestly I completely forgot to use the prompt. Sorry!

 

 

 

Saturday mornings means teaching the Mommy and Me yoga class, which she _lives_ for. There’s nothing better than teaching someone who really wants to learn, and kids eat it up (although sometimes Shay suspects the fact that you don’t have to wear shoes is the part that entertains them the most).

 

There is, however, a sense of fulfillment in convincing people who aren’t so eager to learn. It’s usually the weightlifter dragged in by his girlfriend, or the injured athlete who can’t abide anything less than a marathon.

 

Today, Shay can tell, it’s the woman who just walked in with her daughter.

 

Shay turns away, fills her water bottle at the fountain before her class, and watches out of the corner of her eye as the woman and her daughter take the front and center spot, laying down yoga mats, and tries not to smile.

 

 

-

 

 

These are the first words out of Alison Hendrix’s mouth.

 

“I hate yoga.”

 

Shay pauses mid-way through picking up a mat someone’s left out, a laugh caught in her throat at the boldness, and watches Alison’s eyes go wide as she half-turns and realizes she’s just grumbled that out loud right next to her.

 

“Mommyyyyy,” Gemma groans, giving Shay a theatric roll of her eyes as if to apologize. She's used to the smack talk though and only smiles, which seems to snap Alison out of her state of frozen embarrassment.

 

“Go clean up your mat, Gemma,” Alison chides, a little more gently, and pushes lightly at Gemma’s shoulder. “We have figure skating at six.”

 

“Busy schedule,” Shay can’t help but comment as Gemma sighs and walks away, and Alison smiles thinly.

 

Maybe it’s a misplaced sense of pride more than it is intuition, but she gets the feeling that they'll be back. Things put away, Gemma gives her an enormous wave as they leave, and Alison even nods politely to her before they walk out the door.

 

 

-

 

 

The two-point-five kids and soccer-mom schedule don’t bode well for her.

 

“Dude, I don’t know what kind of vibes you’re putting out there, Shay, but you attract the weirdest people,” her co-worker, Cosima, comments as they close up for the night.

 

She thinks about her last date and makes a noncommittal noise. _Weirdest_ might not be apt here, but _most inappropriate_ definitely is.

                                              

"Oh, shit," Cosima laughs. "Maybe she’s on Sapphire. Gimme your phone."

 

 _She’s married_ , Shay wants to protest, but realizes she’s not quite sure if that’s true. _She’s straight_ , Shay goes to next, but in this day and age that might not be true, either, even with children. All she can come up with as an excuse is, “She has two kids,” which really doesn’t bother her at all, and Cosima must know that, because before she can say no Cosima’s plucking her phone from her purse and Shay’s doing nothing to stop her.  

 

“So?”

 

She skips over the next-most obvious excuse ( _I'm not interested)_ and thanks her lucky stars that Cosima politely ignores that omission.

 

-

 

 

“Welcome back,” she says, trying to keep the teasing tone out of her voice, and watches Alison’s shoulders tense as she turns around.

 

“Thank you,” Alison says, and it sounds clipped until Gemma sprints away to talk to another girl across the studio floor. With no one else within earshot, Alison breathes, offers what seems like a genuine smile, adding, “Sorry about last time.”

 

Shay waves a hand dismissively. “I take it yoga class wasn’t your idea?”

 

At that, Alison laughs. “It was not,” she agrees, and motions in Gemma’s direction. “This one wants to try everything there is to try; her brother, I can’t get off the couch anymore. Videogames,” Alison explains, nose wrinkling in displeasure.

 

Shay hums. "That’s a shame. I used to love playing outside with my brothers," she offers. "I even played rugby with them until I almost tore my right knee. Started looking into something a little less rough right after."

 

Alison’s eyes flick down, and then back up. "Really?" she says, and genuine interest lies there as she crosses her arms in thought. "I can hardly tell. You don't favor that knee at all." And as if to answer her question, Alison gives a little laugh, adds quickly, "I studied kinesiology."

 

"So you should _know_ why yoga’s so good for you," Shay says lightly, and Alison holds up a hand to stop her, though the crinkle to the corner of her eyes has Shay realize it’s in jest.

 

"No need to prosyletize. I’ve already paid for the class."

 

It’s an honest answer, and Shay can’t help but laugh.  

 

 

-

 

 

It doesn’t usually happen at the Mommy and Me classes – that distinction goes to hot yoga, which leaves her sweaty and wearing very little in a room full of other people who are also sweaty and wearing very little. But it _has_ happened before, enough for her to know the signs.

 

Shay rises up out of a standing forward bend and reaches up, tries to brush her ponytail back with some difficulty - her hair's grown just long enough for the ends of trail against skin, and right now the ends of her hair stick to her sweaty collarbone and dip just inside her shirt.

 

She tries to make it quick, knows it's not really the venue to be running hands over any part of herself - she drags fingertips against skin, flicks the trailing ends of her ponytail behind herself, and accidentally catches Alison's eye. 

 

 

Alison looks away abruptly, focusing on Gemma, and Shay steps forward, moves onto walking through the room helping people with their forms. 

 

It means nothing, until it means something.

 

 

-

 

 

She slips out of the studio, rounds the corner to head to her car, and can't wait to get home and curl up with a glass of wine and a book. (She won't lie. The second-best part about Mommy and Me is that no one else wants to teach it, and so as part of the favor she's doing to every other instructor at the studio it's her last class of the day.)

 

She grabs her keys out of her purse as she approaches her car and only happens to turn her head just right, enough to notice the flash of a familiar berry-colored jacket out of the corner of her eye, and drops her keys back in her bag.

 

She crosses the parking lot, takes a seat next to Alison on the curb since the two of them are mostly obscured by cars and sheer distance from the studio.

 

“My ex picked her up,” Alison explains, and holds out the joint, most of it already smoked. “Want some?" she offers politely. "Courtesy of my delinquent sister.”

 

“I’ll pass," Shay says, and the silence that falls over them doesn't last long.

 

“Didn’t think a little thing like you could play rugby,” Alison says, eyes flicking over her before staring out across the parking lot again, but it sounds approving.

 

"I could say the same about you," Shay shoots back, and motions taking a toke. Alison only breathes out sharply, a laugh.

 

All too quick there’s the sound of gravel crunching, a car pulling up not far away, and Alison exhales, checks her phone, stubs out the rest of the joint, and pockets both.

 

"My Uber’s here," Alison says, and waves goodbye with a smile and a flutter of her fingers. "See you next weekend."

 

 

-

 

 

"Shay?"

 

They're cleaning up again, several families left, and Shay turns, finds Gemma waiting politely, hands held behind her back.

 

"Do you want to come to my figure skating recital?"

  

Besides a few dads from hot yoga getting the wrong idea, she's never been asked to go do something with someone from a class. That it's this and not a date is actually more than a little adorable. She nods, watches Alison pop her head into the room, no doubt looking for her missing daughter, find them, start making a beeline for them.

 

"Of course I’ll go. When is it?"

 

Gemma pauses and then grins widely, swaying on the heels of her feet. "Um. I don't remember the address."

 

"You don’t have to come," Alison stage-whispers, hands on Gemma's shoulders and looking more than a little eager to leave. "It's Saturday at five."

 

"I’d love to," Shay assures them both, and, thinking on her feet, adds, "Just text me the details and I’ll be there."

 

 

-

 

 

She waves hello to Gemma warming up on the ice, and makes her way over to where Alison is sitting by herself, apart from the crowd, ponytail sleek and back stifflike she’s not used to seeing it.

 

“What’s up with the address?” Shay jokes, setting the beverage carrier down between them, and she could swear Alison almost looks relieved as she turns to her. 

 

“I needed a change of scenery.”

 

Which Alison has certainly accomplished, since the studio isn’t exactly a five-minute drive from Scarborough. But Shay picks up a cup, holds it out, offering, because she’s not quite sure that’s all Alison meant.

 

“Did you find it?” she asks, teasing, and watches Alison take a sip before curling both hands around the coffee cup, balancing it on a thigh, and giving her a hopeful smile. 

 

“I think I might have.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
